


Love Me Tender

by December21st



Series: Forgotten [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Futurefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:29:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/December21st/pseuds/December21st
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Love me tender, love me dear, tell me you are mine.  I'll be yours through all the years, till the end of time.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Me Tender

**Author's Note:**

> Written during Season 3.

When Jo was three years old, her father had once complained that it was "hot enough to fry eggs on a sidewalk." So she'd snuck into the kitchen and stolen two eggs out of the refrigerator. Finding a sidewalk was harder, there not being a lot of sidewalks around the Roadhouse, but Jo finally settled on the running board of one of the big rigs that had stopped there for lunch. It was on the side of the truck, and the trucker stepped on it, she reasoned, so it was close to a sidewalk. But the eggs had puddled and refused to fry, so she went back inside and told her confused father "It is NOT!" Fortunately for Jo, once her parents and the trucker discovered what she'd done, they'd been too busy laughing for Jo to get in trouble.

So when Dean had declared it "hot enough to fry eggs on a sidewalk" it made Jo snort in laughter, and then she'd had to tell the whole story.

It might not be hot enough to fry eggs on a sidewalk, but it was darn hot in the Nevada desert, even with all four windows rolled down and Dean keeping the Impala at a steady sixty miles an hour. Dean and Ash had spent the last seventy-three miles coming up with the most wildly unsuitable names for her unborn child. Sam, usually the voice of reason when conversations got like this ... hadn't helped. Unless she changed her mind about ancient Greek heroes or Norse goddesses. And the baby would need a name (in addition to about a million other things they didn't have) in about six weeks, give or take.

Sam, possibly in a pre-emptive attempt to redeem himself, had also been rubbing her swollen feet since early on, when Dean had gleefully suggested Winifred (we can call her Winnie! Winnie Winchester!) Sam didn't mind sitting in the back, he claimed, since he couldn't see the scenery anyhow, and Dean couldn't reach him to give him wet willies or Indian burns. This had led to a scuffle with Dean trying to prove Sam wrong and Ash desperately grabbing the Impala's steering wheel. She was marrying a ten-year-old.

She realized that she'd missed the last few minutes of conversation because she'd been staring at the back of Dean's neck in front of her, watching the minute adjustments of his muscles as he talked and drove. On impulse, she leaned forward and kissed him just below the clean edge of his short-cut hair. He responded with a good-natured "hey!" and looked at her in the rear-view mirror with a grin.

Ash had pulled out a laptop and was surfing the internet. How he was getting a signal in the middle of nowhere was anyone's guess. Sam was apparently thinking the same thing, because he asked Ash about the internet access. Jo lost track of the answer about three words into the explanation, but that was okay. One thing she liked about Ash was that he didn't treat Sam any different because Sam was blind. He just treated Sam like Sam, someone he could talk to as an intellectual equal (or as close as Ash usually got.)

She hadn't been with the Winchester boys when Sam had been struck blind, but she knew that the first few months had been a wild emotional ride for both of them. Even though the worst of it had been over by the time she got pregnant, she and Sam had formed an unofficial "I'm still useful even though I can't do everything I used to" club that had helped both of them cope. And after the baby was born, well, Sam still couldn't claim to be the most helpless member of the family.

She'd never questioned, even for a moment, whether Sam would stay with them after the wedding or when the baby was born. Sam was as much a part of Dean as Dean's childish sense of humor or his love of classic rock music. And with the yellow-eyed demon and the children like Sam still a very real threat, they needed his help as much as he needed theirs. His visions had already saved their lives more than once.

And he did give the best footrubs. Dean's footrubs were nothing to complain about either, except that they very rarely stopped at the feet. Jo felt herself blush at the direction that thought was going.

Ash was reading off a selection of Las Vegas wedding chapels. They could be married by a pirate captain, a Martian ambassador, a zombie priest (Dean hastily vetoed him because "you never know") or a circus ringmaster. They finally settled on Elvis just as the lights of Las Vegas first appeared in the distance.

Jo had never wanted a big church wedding. Dean had even offered, although she could tell he had no idea how they'd manage it. Helen Winton, her college roommate -- the one who'd accused her of being "a freak with a knife collection" -- had spent hours obsessing over her future wedding -- the perfect church; the perfect music; the perfect dress. All Helen was missing was the perfect groom.

And Jo had found the perfect groom without even trying. It was all she really wanted -- that, and she'd always harbored a vague wish that she would dance at her wedding. Not likely to happen under the circumstances, but that was okay.

She never thought that her mother wouldn’t be alive to see her get married. Seven months since the fire. Seven months since she'd lost her mother, something she'd never really believed would happen. Seven months since her only living family was a two-week-old fetus growing in her belly.

And tonight that would change. Tonight she would become a Winchester, and her family of not-quite-two would become not-quite-four.

She must've drifted off to sleep, because the next thing she knew, Dean was shaking her awake in city hall's parking lot. The sun had set as she slept, and Las Vegas was sparkling in all its neon glory. The temperature had gone down with the sun, and she shivered as Dean helped her out of the car. He wordlessly reached behind her and pulled out her blue sweater from where it was stuffed halfway under the driver's seat and pulled her to him as he settled it on her shoulders, kissing her resolutely.

She would never, ever get tired of that.

It took no time at all to get the marriage license; Dean producing a long-expired driver's license with his real name on it, saying he knew it would come in handy someday. From there, they drove to Elvis's Chapel of Burning Love, describing the flashy buildings and exotic people to Sam, everyone talking at once and in good spirits.

A man stood outside the chapel as the four of them approached. He was wearing a baseball cap and was ... "Bobby!" she exclaimed. Bobby swooped in to hug her, commenting on her stomach and the eleven messages on his voice mail once he'd gotten back to someplace his cell phone was working again.

After that, an overpriced coach ticket had gotten him to Vegas five hours ahead of the Impala. A call from Ash while she napped had brought him here.

The wedding took ten minutes. Elvis, who was about Dean's age, talked about love, citing lyrics from at least six Elvis Presley songs (she counted), a surprisingly normal part about loving, honoring and cherishing and what she was pretty sure was an improvised piece on the importance of family.

And that was it. She was married. She watched Sam, Ash and Bobby go outside as Ash explained that counting cards wasn't actually illegal. She waited for Dean in the otherwise empty lobby as he paid the receptionist (who complained that the Elvis down the street was taking all their business) and slipped back into the chapel to tip Elvis himself.

She was surprised to find herself crying. She shouldn't be crying; she was happy! But the tears continued to trickle down her face until Dean's thumbs gently smeared them over her cheekbones. He wrapped his arms around her, his hands settling on her lower back. With a nod at Dean, Elvis came out of the chapel crooning "Love Me Tender" and Dean rocked her in time to the music. As they danced, Jo decided it really was the perfect wedding.


End file.
